


Where There's Smoke...

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k19 [15]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bombs, Diplomacy, Fire, Flashbacks, Gen, Keith (Voltron) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Missions Gone Wrong, Prompt: Trapped in a burning building, Protective Keith (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Worried Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23552419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Boom, crack, the sound of a building exploding into flames.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k19 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554010
Comments: 24
Kudos: 328
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Where There's Smoke...

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey, I'm alive. Sorry it took a while. Life is crazy, writing motivation is low, I swear I'm trying.

Zarkon’s control wasn’t universal. It certainly seemed like it, especially when you looked at the star map, bathed in red and purple. 

But there were pockets of resistance, people who had defied Zarkon for millenia even without the aid of Voltron. The Karei system was one such sanctuary-- twenty five planets and dwarf planets circling a red giant. According to Coran, during the days of Altea it had been a normal star, and there were forty planets in the system. 

Despite the looming threat of their own sun, the people of the system had still resisted Zarkon’s control. Keith admired him for that. He did. He just wished it hadn’t turned them into paranoia incarnate. 

“This is ridiculous,” Lance huffed, not for the first time as the three of them stood in an ornate entryway, waiting to be allowed in. “How long have we been standing here? Four hours?” 

The comm tucked in Keith’s ear crackled and Pidge’s voice answered, “Nope. Just one.”

Lance threw his head back and groaned. Keith and Shiro exchanged a look, but neither of them said anything. That was Allura’s job. 

“Lance, please. It won’t be much longer-- Pidge and Hunk have nearly completed the scans.”

“Why does every single planet insist on doing their own scans?” Lance continued to grouch. “Couldn’t they just look at the first one? How would we have gotten anything dangerous with them watching us the whole time we’ve been here?”

“They’re just being cautious,” Shiro answered, keeping his voice low to avoid echo in the stone room. “They want to be sure we’re trustworthy before giving us access.”

Lance sighed and slouched. “I just wish it wouldn’t take so damn long.”

Keith, for his part, was doing his best to keep his impatience to himself. He kind of hated being on the ground team, especially with all the crap they had to go through every time he set off a bit of Galra detection tech, but it’s not like he’d have anything better to do in the Castle, either. So he just quietly bounced his knee and tried not to let his own paranoia get the best of him. 

The room they were stuck in was reassuring on that front. Not particularly comfortable-- the architecture on this planet was rather austere, shall we say-- but its simplicity meant fewer hiding places and spots to conceal cameras. They were definitely being monitored somehow, but at least he wouldn’t have to be staring it in the eye. 

Shiro, as ever, was a paragon of patience. “It’s not that bad. As soon as the scans are done Allura can take over, and since the other five planets we’ve been to have all accepted the alliance, it probably won’t take long to reach an agreement here, too.”

Lance grumbled, words unintelligible, and at this point Keith couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. Which Lance noticed, of course. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Mullet,” he said, folding his arms in a petulant imitation of Keith’s posture. “You don’t like waiting either.”

“I know,” Keith answered, “but I don’t complain nearly as much as you do.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t form sentences like a normal person.”

“Guys,” said Shiro before Keith could get snippy back. “Can we at least pretend to be Paladins for a few minutes?”

It was entirely for Shiro’s sake that Keith decided not to answer, but Lance still looked smug anyway. 

Thankfully for all three of them, it wasn’t much longer before their waiting came to an end. Within the next thirty minutes the double doors hiding the rest of the palace swung open, admitting a short, stocky alien with skin that mimicked the stony texture of the walls. They wore a flowing garment that was long enough to drag on the floor, adorned with a few patterns Keith recognized from other planets in the system. 

Keith straightened up at their entrance, making a conscious effort to hide his impatient fidgets. The aliens of the system weren’t identical from planet to planet, but so far all of them had shown a dislike for idle movements. The last thing he wanted to do was delay this process any further-- Lance would kill him. 

“Paladins,” said the alien in a tone as solemn as the architecture. “We have studied the scans of the Castle of Lions. After some discussion, the Council has approved your request for negotiation.”

There was a simultaneous sigh of relief. Shiro gave the short little alien a pleased smile while Lance grinned, probably barely holding back a cheer. Keith couldn’t resist rocking back on his heels, just once. 

“That’s great,” Shiro said, still smiling despite the alien’s deadpan expression. “Should we contact the Princess, or--”

At that moment, something strange happened. In the middle of Shiro’s sentence a force went through the air, making Keith’s hair stand on end as it blew past him. He even felt the floor shift just slightly under his feet. A half second later the sound found them; a deep, throaty  _ boom.  _

Even the implacable alien had a surprised look on their face. They came to their senses quickly, saying, “I-- erm-- I’m sure that’s-- whatever it is, the security forces will handle it.”

None of them were listening. They’d been in this space war for too long to not know the feeling of a bomb going off. 

Immediately the route they’d taken to get into the palace ran through Keith’s mind. It wasn’t complicated-- out these doors, down a long hallway, hang a left, out and down the stairs to where Blue was waiting for them. 

Then they could deal with the bombers. 

“Lance,” Shiro said, already rattling off orders, “get in contact with Blue, make sure she’s ready to fly. Keith--”

“Already ahead of you,” Keith answered as he drew his knife, letting it flash into a blade. He heard the alien give a scandalized gasp, but given the situation, he didn’t regret sneaking it in. 

“Come with us, please,” Shiro said to the alien. “We should evacuate the building.”

“I don’t understand,” the alien said, even as Shiro gently took their arm and began to lead them to the door. “The scans were clean…”

“It wasn’t us,” Keith replied tightly. 

The four of them passed through the door, moving as a unit, Keith up front and Shiro in the back, and were halfway down the long hall when another blast went off, closely followed by a third. Something tickled Keith’s nose, and the adrenaline in his veins tripled when he recognized it. 

Smoke. 

“Shiro.”

“I know.” His tone was grim. “Let’s pick up the pace.”

He and Lance obligingly sped up. 

By the time they made it outside his eyes were stinging, and the cause became apparent as soon as they circled around to Blue. The entire east wing of the building was ablaze, which taught Keith something new. 

This alien building material may have looked like stone, but it burned like wood. 

The alien they’d been escorting suddenly tore away from them, making a beeline for a group of other aliens hovering nearby. One of them paused in their anxious murmuring and ran to embrace them with a cry. 

Keith swept his eyes over the hillside. There were four or five large groups of aliens watching the disaster. At the moment there were no individuals or suspicious figures to catch his eye, but that could change at any moment. 

“Paladins!” Keith’s gaze jerked to the left. One of the aliens, this one a pale seafoam color, had just run up to them and latched onto Lance’s arm, their face streaked with milky white tears. “Help us, please! There are still people inside the palace!” 

Lance laid his free hand on the aliens shoulder, bending down slightly to comfort them. Shiro was speaking tersely into his comms, barely audible over the roar of the inferno. 

“Pidge, are you seeing this?”

“We see it,” Allura said tensely. “We detected the bombers on the Castle’s sensors, Pidge and Hunk have gone to capture them. You three will have to handle the rescue efforts until they return.”

Shiro frowned and said something else, but Keith couldn’t hear it. He was looking at the burning palace, at how high up the flames licked, stretching for the sky, and a sick feeling began to swirl in his stomach. A familiar anxiety that he was well versed in ignoring; instead, he firmly directed his thoughts towards the people inside, their families waiting in terror.

_ It’s just like Arus,  _ he told himself, sheathing his blade.  _ No time for fear.  _ That thought also got shoved away-- he wasn’t afraid. He was the Guardian of Fire. He wasn’t afraid. 

“Lance.” 

Shiro’s voice sucked Keith back into reality. The begging alien had backed off, being reabsorbed by their group for comfort. Even Lance looked serious, the flames making unsettling shadows dance across his and Shiro’s faces. 

“Get in Blue, get some ice going, it might help put the fire out. Keith and I will go in for survivors.”

Keith’s lungs seized. One word from that sentence stuck out, made all of the coiled up fear start to press outward.  _ I.  _

And, just as Keith feared, Shiro was turning towards the blaze. 

His hand shot out and fastened around Shiro’s metal wrist, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Keith?” he asked, both of the other Paladins shooting him confused looks. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t.” His voice came out weak, like he couldn’t get enough breath in his lungs. He couldn’t tell. His chest hurt. “Don’t go in. It’s too-- you’ll get hurt.”

Shiro’s eyebrows rose. But before he could say anything, Lance, always the fastest talker, swept in. 

“What the hell do you mean?” he spat, tension boiling over into anger. “There are people in there, Keith! We can’t just leave them to burn alive!” 

Keith felt himself drag in a ragged breath. His eyes watered from the smoke. “I--”

Before he could say anything else, Lance’s anger extinguished as quickly as it had risen, replaced by a strange stricken expression Keith couldn’t decipher. When he spoke, his voice was far less accusatory. “Woah, dude. You look--”

“Lance,” Shiro said again. “Later. I need you in Blue.”

Lance hesitated for a half moment longer, and with the small part of his brain that wasn’t panicking, Keith braced for the tirade to continue. He’d gotten that speech before, back when Zarkon had Allura, and he could still hear the words Lance had flung at him. Behind them echoed the words of the false Shiro:  _ You’re being selfish, as usual.  _

Even that wasn’t enough to make him let go of Shiro. He knew he was selfish. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to lose Shiro again. He wasn’t going to let another person be consumed by flames. He had to make him stay. 

No matter what. 

“I’ll do it,” he said, squeezing Shiro’s wrist beseechingly. “I’ll go in, I’ll do it, you don’t have to. I’ll do it.”

“Shiro,” Lance said. Keith couldn’t hear him over the roar of the flames. 

“Just go to Blue. I’ll handle it.”

For a second it looked like Lance wasn’t going to listen. But eventually, with that strange expression still on his face, he turned and started up the hill towards the Blue Lion. 

Shiro turned back to Keith, a soft look on his face. 

“Keith, we both need to go. We need to get as many people out as we can. That’s our job.”

Keith shook his head, hard, like he was trying to get water out of his ears. It wasn’t entirely at Shiro’s words. Half of it came from the image of a headstone flickering before his eyes, the smell of dust, the heat of the setting desert sun on his shoulders. 

But he knew Shiro was right. This was what a Paladin is supposed to do. This was what his father would do. No matter what his pounding heart and roiling stomach and cold fingertips said about it. 

“Ok.”

Shiro gave him a small, strained smile, repeating, “Ok.” He knew what was going on in Keith’s head, if that sad look in his eyes was anything to go by. But they didn’t have a choice, and they both knew it. 

So, with a great amount of effort, Keith managed to let go of Shiro’s arm. But he still stuck close to his back as they headed in the direction of the burning building. 

The fire had picked up. Almost three quarters of the walls seemed to have been consumed, leaving arches and support struts of blackened stone behind. Through the bones and flames Keith could see the remnants of three or four floors and a couple of staircases-- he had no idea how they were going to find anyone in this mess, but they would try. 

“Follow me,” Shiro called over the sound of burning, right before he skirted between two tongues of fire and slipped into the palace. Keith pressed the sleeve of his jacket over his nose and did as he was told.

Entering the building felt like descending into hell. Heat descended, soaking Keith in sweat in seconds. Smoke stung at his eyes and burned down his throat, making him compulsively cough into the elbow of his jacket, barely able to see through the tears. But he kept going, keeping one hand twisted into the back of Shiro’s shirt. 

It was only a few moments later that they heard their first cry for help. It was thin and croaky, coming from behind an empty doorway and a wall in the process of crumbling. Shiro led them towards it. 

The doorway was the entrance to a small room, probably a closet of some sort. Pressed against the floor to escape the smoke were two aliens, one coiled protectively over the other. The one on top jumped violently at Shiro’s touch and began to cough immediately, but their eyes shone when they looked up, and they were able to stand. Shiro laid a hand on one of their shoulders, the other slipped their hand into Keith’s, and they began to make their painstaking way back towards the outside. 

They were able to make three or four trips that way. When they were outside Keith could see Blue zipping and zooming overhead, pouring ice down on the roaring flames in an attempt to quell them. From the outside it looked like it was working, but from the inside the inferno seemed just as strong as ever, and every trip inside covered Keith and Shiro in more ash, sweat, and in Keith’s case, fear. 

Every time the flames leapt towards them, every time a wall crumbled nearby, every time a beam crashed down from overhead, Keith’s heart leapt into his throat. Adrenaline pounded through his veins. His mouth was painfully dry, his eyes too damp to see properly through, his skin soaked and burning at the same time. 

He could feel something in him creaking, threatening to break. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this. 

Then Shiro said, “Last trip,” and that brief glimmer of hope bore him up enough to go in one more time. He repeated that to himself as they pushed through the wreckage,  _ one last time, one last time,  _ and it pushed him forward more than the promise of fresh air in his lungs. 

The darkness closed in around them once more. Shiro took them deeper into the building, deeper, deeper, deeper, until they were surrounded. Keith wanted to pull them back, wary of the cracking ceiling over their heads, but he knew it wouldn’t work. Shiro was just as stubborn as his father had been. 

The minutes stretched on as they searched for more survivors. Keith’s awareness narrowed into a dim tunnel, focused only on Shiro, not on the smoke and flames closing in on them. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, but it barely registered. It didn’t matter. 

Eventually Shiro turned around and shook his head. Tears from smoke had worn streaks through the ashes on his face, his eyes red and swollen, and despite the hand pressed over his mouth, Keith noticed his chest heaving as he coughed and struggled to breathe. 

So they pushed back the way they’d come-- as best they could, anyway, with the flames constantly changing the landscape. Keith didn’t hear any more signs of life as they did, and Shiro didn’t waver in their path, so he probably didn’t either. 

A glimpse of sky revealed how close they were to the exit. The glimpses became more numerous as they approached, and eventually they could see almost the entire hillside through the remains of the structure. They just had to get through one more archway and then they’d be out. It would be over, Shiro would be safe, and everything would be fine. 

They stepped underneath the arch. On the other side Keith could see the Yellow and Green Lions sitting on the hill, Blue soaring over them. Almost there. Almost there. 

_ Crack. _

Keith’s head snapped up. The beam directly overhead had just cracked down the middle, the split glowing orange with heat, and as he watched it began to come apart, the lower half loosening in preparation to fall. 

Instinct kicked in, and without thinking he threw himself backwards to avoid it. Looking up and noticing it had seemed to take minutes, but barely a half second after he moved the beam plummeted to the floor, bringing an avalanche of debris with it. 

Just before it hit the ground with its deafening crash, he saw Shiro leap forward onto the lawn outside. He had a brief moment of relief. Then he saw the flames, the smoke, the darkness, this time all around without anything to latch onto, and his white knuckled grip on panic failed him entirely. 

He sucked in a breath to scream, only to immediately feel like he’d swallowed burning thermite. The resulting coughing fit sent him to his knees, his back curling under the weight of the heat all around him. 

It was all of his worst nightmares, condensed into one suffocating, boiling, terrifying hellscape. There were no escape points that he could see, it was all orange and red fire and black smoke and glowing wood that burned under his knees.

Through it all, there was only one thought he could piece together through all the fear;  _ At least Shiro made it out. _

* * *

“Lance!” Shiro’s voice was rough from smoke, his mouth dry from heat, but it didn’t stop him from shouting into the comms as loud as he could. “I need ice, now!”

“Ten-four, coming in.” 

Over the crackle of flames Shiro heard Blue’s engine growling, and a moment later a blue beam arched over his head, aimed right into the middle of the wall of fire and burning wood that had fallen between him and Keith. The whole thing froze at once, steam hissing forth and replacing the smoke hanging overhead. 

Shiro powered up his arm. He wasn’t sure this was going to work, but he didn’t have any other ideas. He had to get Keith out, no matter what, but before he could move he heard Pidge’s voice in his ear, crying, “Head’s up!”

He’d heard that during one exploding experiment too many. Shiro instinctively ducked, just in time for Pidge to aim a shot from Green’s tail into the ice wall. He kept his arms wrapped around his head as he heard it shatter, flinging shards of ice and wooden debris far and wide. When he dared to look up again the wall had been replaced by a yawning, dark opening-- and in the middle of it, crouched on the floor, was Keith. 

Instantly he dropped into a sprint. He had no idea how long he had before more of the ceiling crumbled. So Shiro ran as hard as he could, reaching Keith in a matter of seconds, and hauled him upright without hesitation.

Thankfully, even though he was coughing and terrified, Keith hadn’t been knocked unconscious by the collapse. He followed easily when Shiro pulled him back towards the exit, and a few moments later they emerged onto the lawn again. Cheers rang through the comms, but Shiro kept going, not letting their pace drop for a second. The sound of burning flame was beginning to be superseded by the cracking and snapping of wood and support struts. 

They made it halfway up the hill again before the entire palace caved in on itself. The cacophonous sound was accompanied by a wall of expelled air that pushed Shiro and Keith off balance; Shiro went with the flow and let it knock them down, holding tightly to Keith and taking the impact on his back. 

He felt the ground shudder under his cheek,  _ thud, thud, thud,  _ as the Lions landed around the two of them. With the large body of the Yellow Lion between them and the devastation, Shiro felt safe enough to sit up and finally give Keith a proper look over. 

Even when Shiro pulled away, Keith maintained his vice grip on Shiro’s wrist, the human one this time. He was paper white, though Shiro wasn’t sure if that was due to the contrast of the ashes smudged over his cheeks or the fear that kept him shaking. The coughs wracking through him kept him from following Shiro upright, and they didn’t stop even when Shiro pulled him up to sit beside him. 

Shiro’s ears were ringing a bit from all the noise from the last… however long it had been. So he didn’t hear the hiss of Lion ramps extending, but he did hear Hunk’s voice when he spoke directly above them, echoing through the comms as well as the air. 

“Are you guys ok?”

The obvious distress in his tone drew Shiro’s eyes away from Keith. As he watched Hunk kneel down beside them in the grass, both Pidge and Lance barely visible as they approached from their own lions. He couldn’t help coughing slightly before he answered. 

“I think-- we breathed in-- a lot of smoke--”

“Did you get everybody out?” Lance asked, though he was looking at the two of them rather than the ruins of the palace or the crowds of aliens. 

“Don’t know.” Shiro paused and swallowed hard. “I don’t know how many-- people were in there, but we-- got nine or ten--” He kept being interrupted by his coughing, which was visibly increasing Hunk’s concern levels the longer he attempted to speak. 

Pidge dropped to join him on the grass. Reaching out a shaky hand, she quietly murmured Keith’s name, only for him to cringe away from her touch and press more insistently into Shiro’s side. 

She withdrew and pressed her fingers to the comm in her ear. “Allura, we might need a couple of pods when we come back up, Shiro and Keith are in pretty rough shape.”

They all heard the answer when Allura responded. “Roger that. Please return to the Castle as quickly as possible, Paladins. This mess will take some time to clean up.”

Shiro didn’t think she meant just the ruined palace. 

“Let’s get you guys up,” said Hunk. Shiro allowed him to sling his metal arm over his shoulders, but Keith still turned stubbornly away from Pidge, so all they could do was haul Shiro to his feet and hope Keith followed. He did, and even though he was unsteady, he was lucid enough to walk the distance to the Yellow Lion under his own power. 

Once they were situated in the cockpit with Hunk and en route back to the Castle, Shiro gave his burning throat a final soothing swallow and gave his full attention to trying to get through to Keith. 

“Hey,” he said, quietly as to not attract Hunk’s attention, “you in there?”

His fingers squeezed Shiro’s wrist. His eyes flicked up to meet Shiro’s, just for a moment, then dropped back to the floor. He didn’t say a word. 

Shiro’s heart twisted in his chest. The guilt burned worse than the smoke; he never wanted to put Keith through something like this. But he couldn’t just stand aside and do nothing when people were in danger, even when it led to something like this. His fatal flaw, he supposed. 

With a bit of careful wiggling, Shiro managed to fit his right arm between Keith’s back and the wall enough to make an attempt at a hug. Keith curled into him, fisting his other hand into Shiro’s black vest. 

_ The vest,  _ Shiro remembered with a sinking stomach,  _ that belonged to his father.  _

“I’m here,” he murmured into Keith’s hair, holding him as securely as he could. “We’re both here. We’re both ok. Everyone’s ok.”

Keith, aside from a few quiet coughs, remained silent. 

A few minutes later Hunk called back to them, informing them that they were approaching the Castle. A minute or so after that they coasted into the Yellow Lion’s hangar. 

When they emerged from the Lion, Shiro wasn’t surprised to find every other denizen of the Castle waiting for them. What he was surprised about was the low hum filling the room, making all the hair on his body stand on end.

“What is that?” asked Hunk. Allura opened her mouth to answer, but Shiro didn’t need it. The way Keith had just tensed against him told him everything he needed to know. 

“It’s Red,” Pidge explained to Hunk. “She’s pretty agitated.”

“Probably upset she missed all the action,” said Lance. Shiro was fairly sure it was meant as a joke, but there was a sad, tired look in his eyes that hinted otherwise. Shiro wearily pushed the thought from his mind; one teammate at a time. 

“Alright, come along you two,” Coran said with a tone of fake cheer, reaching out to usher them towards the infirmary. “Any external injuries? Burns?”

“Not me,” Shiro answered as the entire group began to move out of the hangar. “I don’t know about Keith, he was in there for a little bit without me.”

Coran hummed and shifted to walk alongside Keith. “Number Four?” he asked, despite the fact that Keith was staring straight at the floor. “What about you, my boy? Any injuries?”

Keith’s only response was to turn his head away. The next thing he knew, Shiro found himself the focus of the entire team’s attention, all looking to him for answers that he didn’t know he had the right to give. 

“The scanners should be able to pick it up if he’s hurt,” was all he said, and the group dropped into silence. 

The quiet lingered after they arrived in the infirmary. Coran sat them down on a cot-- the same one, since Keith still refused to let him go-- while Allura fetched the medical scanner. Pidge and Hunk huddled with Lance in a corner, probably being regaled with the tale of what happened in the palace when the bombs went off. 

The scanner made quiet beeping noises as Coran waved it over both of them. The reports were good, not much more than bruises externally, but internally had Coran concerned. With Allura’s help he wheeled over a machine with a couple of face masks attached, probably the Altean version of an oxygen tank, which Coran triple checked would be safe for the both of them before hooking them up. 

The mask didn’t feel much different from an Earth hospital mask. Keith allowed it to be placed over his nose and mouth without struggle. Shiro didn’t say anything either, but the weight of it over the bridge of his nose almost immediately made anxiety bubble in his gut. His scar thrummed under the cold plastic, and in an effort to keep his own cool, he fixates on the tight press of Keith’s fingers around his wrist. 

“About half a varga of this, and you’ll be feeling as good as new,” beamed Coran. There was a lightness to his movements, as though he was relieved the injuries hadn’t been more serious. Shiro couldn’t fault him for that, even if his own conscience still weighed heavily on him. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” said Allura, already making her way to the doors, “I think a call down to the planet is in order. To assess the damage. Pidge, did you and Lance take the bombers to the cells as I asked?”

Pidge made a face. “Yeah, but can we talk about how creepy it is that you have cells?”

“Better than being frozen in a pod against your will,” said Lance with an unfamiliar heaviness in his voice. “I know that from experience.”

Allura shifted a bit uncomfortably. “Ah, well-- thank you. I doubt they’ll be here long. The leaders will want to punish them.”

“What I can’t figure out,” said Hunk, “is why they did it. The bombers aren’t Galra or anything. They’re natives. Why would they betray their own people?”

“People do things for all sorts of reasons.” Lance was blatantly staring in Keith’s direction, equal parts confusion and concern mixing on his face. His curiosity was practically palpable in the air-- if Shiro wasn’t on the ball and left the two of them alone… 

The mask felt suffocating. Shiro closed his eyes, focusing on Keith’s grip, and took a few paced breaths. 

“Why don’t the rest of you go get cleaned up? I’ll monitor these two.”

The other three Paladins all murmured vague agreements to Coran’s suggestion, and the trio left the infirmary together, talking quietly to each other. Coran moved away towards the far corner of the room, probably on purpose to give him and Keith space. 

When Shiro obligingly looked back at Keith, he was surprised to see a bit more awareness in his eyes. He was doubly surprised when he recognized the movement of his chest-- he was doing the same breathing as Shiro, which meant he was lucid enough to recognize that he was reacting to something and to try and calm himself down. All of which made Shiro’s job a whole lot easier. 

“Keith?” he murmured, voice significantly muffled by the mask. “How are you doing, buddy?”

Keith’s mask moved as he swallowed, and even though he still didn’t look over, he knew Keith was paying attention by the way he adjusted his grip on Shiro’s wrist. 

He thought he heard Keith say, “I--” but it was so soft, he wasn’t sure until Keith managed a few more words. “I think I’m ok.”

“That’s good,” answered Shiro, restraining his urge to let out a sigh of relief. “Anything hurt?”

“Hurts to breathe. Probably from the-- from the smoke.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Keith took another few paced breaths, and Shiro did it with him, mentally counting off the inhales and the exhales. 

_ In, two, three, four, five.  _

_ Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven.  _

After taking their breather, Keith angled himself slightly in Shiro’s direction, sweeping his eyes over him in evaluation. “You’re ok?” 

Shiro couldn’t help the smile that came over him then, even with the mask shifting awkwardly. “Yeah, I’m alright. No worse than you.”

Keith’s next exhale was shaky again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I acted like that.”

That was a lie. They both knew why he’d reacted so badly. Why he still wouldn’t let go of Shiro, even when he was back to talking. 

So Shiro ignored the statement entirely and said, “You were very brave back there.”

Keith immediately shook his head, as though he hadn’t walked directly into the heart of his deepest trauma just to make sure Shiro came out of it alive. “It didn’t feel that way.”

“I know,” said Shiro, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “But we’re alright. Everyone’s alright.”

Keith leaned into the touch. He still didn’t let go.

* * *

“I swear, I’m never going to understand Keith.” Lance hung his head upside down, arching off of his bed until his hands touched the floor and that crick in his back  _ finally  _ released the tension it had been holding since the first bomb went off. “Every other time there’s been fire he’s run straight into it. He tried to fight Zarkon by himself. Then,  _ this one time,  _ he’s terrified. I don’t get it!”

“I dunno, man,” said Hunk with a shrug. Like Lance, he was out of his armor, sitting on the floor of Lance’s bunk hunched over a mechanic project, trying to keep his mind off of the day's events. “I don’t get him either.”

Pidge gave a tired sigh from her position on the opposite side of the room, the rhythm of her fingers on her laptop keys slowing. “Maybe he’s got personal shit,” she offered without looking up. “Like all of us.”

“Yeah, but--” Lance levered himself upright again. “He’s the literal Guardian of Fire. And today he was telling Shiro it was too dangerous and acting like a sacrificial lamb. It was so weird.” He twisted around to face the rest of the room before pausing, one leg on the bed and one off, as something occurred to him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him actually afraid before. Until today.”

Pidge and Hunk looked up from their respective projects as Lance’s solemn tone sunk into the room. Hunk had that familiar look of concern on his face (Keith would probably be getting extra attention from him later) but Pidge’s was blank and inscrutable. Even so, she was the one to think of something to say. 

“I’m not surprised, actually,” she said, sliding her laptop onto the floor and tucking her knees to her chest. “I mean, you said he only started freaking out after Shiro said he was going in, right? We know how protective Keith is of him.”

“That would make sense,” Hunk added. “He already lost Shiro once.”

“Hm,” said Lance. He turned back around and returned to his previous position, frowning at the spot of gray wall above Pidge as the blood rushed downwards. 

He had a lot to think about.

* * *

Shiro said that it had been an hour or so since they got back when Coran let them out of the infirmary. He had no reason to lie, but Keith couldn’t quite connect to the world around him. Not yet. 

He felt like a massive idiot. He’d finally managed to let go of Shiro, but hadn’t been able to even look in his direction since, far too humiliated by his behavior to bear Shiro’s unfailing understanding. Shiro would’ve said it was fine, that it made sense, that his brain was just reacting to a situation that had felt familiar-- and maybe that was true, but it didn’t make it ok.

So when Shiro offered to stay in his room that night, just in case, Keith turned him down. He didn’t deserve that comfort after the way he’d behaved, which he pondered as he went through the motions of getting ready for bed. 

Most of the day was a haze that he didn’t particularly want to disperse. But he remembered the important parts: his cowardice, his selfishness, and Lance calling him out. 

As much as Keith hated to admit it, Lance had been right. They were supposed to be Paladins now, selfless, brave, fighting for the greater good, saving the innocent. But Keith just wasn’t that person, and at this point he was wondering if he ever would be. If he’d ever be worthy of the astronomical amounts of belief Shiro put in him. 

He was just about to slide miserably under the covers when a knock on the door distracted him from his spiral of thoughts. It occurred to him to ignore it until they went away, until he heard Lance’s voice on the other side, banishing that possibility immediately. 

“I know you’re in there, mullet,” he said, half teasing and half commanding. “I’m not moving until you let me in.”

While Lance was known for his impatience, he was also known for his stubbornness. If he threatened not to move, he wouldn’t move-- Keith had learned that the hard way. So, with a sigh, he climbed back out of bed and went to open the door. 

The expression on Lance’s face wasn’t the one he expected to see. He’d been expecting anger, disapproval, another shouting match. And he would’ve deserved it. But instead Lance looked… almost apologetic. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck in an uncertain gesture Keith had never seen directed at him before. “About what happened today…”

Keith braced himself. 

“I just-- I guess I-- I wanted to make sure you’re ok.” By the time he got the words out properly he was flustered, and the sentence came out all in rush. All Keith could do was stand there and blink, caught completely off guard, and Lance visibly flushed. “I mean, you just seemed a little freaked out earlier, and I know I was kind of a jerk for a second back there so I wanted to-- just checking up, being a good teammate, you know?”

“Uh… sure?” It was safe to say that Keith was confused. Lance had never shown such an interest in his well being before, and something about it set off alarm bells in his head. “Is there… something you wanted?”

Lance looked scandalized. “No! Come on, Keith, have a little faith. I can be nice!”

“If you say so.” Lance’s behavior was weird, but he was far too tired to deal with it now. “Can I go to bed now?”

That got Lance blushing all over again, as though it hadn’t occurred to him that he was keeping Keith up. 

“Right, right, sorry. I’ll, uh-- I’ll see you in the morning.” Then, in the most mortifying moment of the whole encounter, Lance shot finger guns at him before fleeing down the hallway. 

For a second Keith just stood there, trying to drink it all in. Eventually he gave up trying to understand Lance and went back to bed. But, as he climbed under the covers, he maybe, just maybe, felt a little bit better. 


End file.
